Poem 36

or not we could have seen this coming. I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t take you in, Blind Faith,but I’ve told you already with damp cheekson a car-ride I never expected to take. With you,all three hours drenched in conversationsave the two minutes following my confessionat an unnaturally lethargic red light where you held my head in your handssaying nothing. No need to…

it’s quiet in my mind–hush now–are you listening?

All love-storied begins and ends. Beginningsstable like settling sidewalks beget endings promiscuous.I promised myself it would be short lived.

I’ll remember this as the part of my life I regretthe least. I won’t remember this at all since it’s Thursday of exam week and two days ago–this very morning–we woke with a start uponan alarm I set with the inkling it might last all evening.

I knew we would oversleep, the body needsmore than three of anything: three hours, three weeksthree one syllable words. We’ll get there, I’ll set my alarm.

Come April with a bang and whimper among the intermediary noises constructing conversation; come April I’m still impressed we weathered March.

Sitting on a self folding seat next to a stranger, last night I watched books collect dust while she–unexpected–anticipated our arrival, but only Imet her at the door. Reading the world to lifewith her lips while I watched imaginary mind curls (the kind one pulls from the edge of a liberated leaflet)dance as she collected them: one then two and three…

All together with a deep breath in, the room stomachsmemories like a barrel of pickling cucumbers. Youthsours before us, but you and I will be together nonetheless…